'I s'pose it's all over with, guv'nor.'
'How would you like to phone your boss now—for me?'
Fear swelled in McGuire's eyes again as the Saint's meaning wore its way relentlessly into his understanding. His mouth opened once or twice without producing any sound.
'Yer carn't arsk me to do that!' he got out at last. 'If he knew I'd double-crorst 'im—he said——'
Simon rose with a shrug.
'Just as you like,' he said carelessly. 'But one of us is going to use the telephone, and I don't care which it is. If I ring up Vine Street and tell 'em to come over and fetch you away, I should think you'd get about ten years, with a record like yours. Still, they say it's a healthy life, with no worries
'Wait a minute,' McGuire said chokily. 'What do you do if I make this call?'
'I'll give you a hundred quid in cash; and I'll guarantee that when I'm through with your boss he won't be able to do any of those things he promised.'
McGuire was no mathematician, but he could do simple arithmetic. He gulped something out of his throat.
'Okay,' he grunted. 'It's a bet.'
Simon summed him up for a moment longer, and then hauled his chair over to within reach of the table where the telephone stood. He picked up the microphone and prodded his forefinger into the first perforation of the dial.
'All you're going to do,' he said, as he went on spelling out BER 3100, 'is tell the big bearded chief that you've been through this place with a fine comb, and the only tea-leaf in it is yourself. Do you get it ? No Saint, no tea—no soap.. .. And I don't want to frighten you or anything like that, Red, but I just want you to remember that if you try to say any more than that, I've still got you here, and we can easily warm up the curling-tongs again.'
'Don't yer think I know wot's good for me?' retorted the other sourly.
The Saint nodded warily, and heard the ring of the call in the receiver. It was answered almost at once, in a sharp cultured voice with a slight foreign intonation.
'Yes? Who is that?'
Simon put the mouthpiece to McGuire's lips.
'McGuire calling,' said the burglar thickly.
'Well?'
'No luck, guv'nor. It ain't here. The Saint's out, so I had plenty of time. I couldn't 've helped findin' it if it'd been here.'
There was a long pause.
'All right,' said the voice curtly. 'Go home and wait for further orders. I'll call you tomorrow.'
The line went down with a click.
'And I wouldn't mind betting,' said the Saint, as he put the telephone back, 'that that's the easiest hundred quid you ever earned.'
'Well, yer got wot yer wanted, didn't yer?' he snarled. 'Come on an' take orf these ruddy bracelets an' let me go.'
The Saint shook his head.
